


Going Postal Over Bambi

by Wanderlust_Novadust



Category: Postal (Video Games)
Genre: 2 AM weirdness, Bambi on the Wii, Gay, M/M, Offers of sex that don't go anywhere, gay postal dude, gay x readers are all I write, reader perspective, vague x reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-21 06:50:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19997671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wanderlust_Novadust/pseuds/Wanderlust_Novadust
Summary: You're being held captive over a game that doesn't even exist.





	Going Postal Over Bambi

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt for this fic was given to me by my boyfriend. Check him out!  
> https://captainv1ncent.tumblr.com/

You woke up not to the smell of fresh coffee you probably started brewing a good ten minutes ago before falling back asleep. In fact, you didn’t even have the faintest residual, “I fell asleep god damn me,” sort of feeling in you. No, instead, the feelings you had were around you. Rope, tight, constricting and binding you to your place sat upright on your couch. Before you could get your bleary eyes to cooperate, there was water splashed onto you, leaving you very awake.

“Alright, I’ve waited long enough for you to wake up.”

The man’s voice was not the most inviting thing, and you honestly would’ve rather been asleep still. As your sight focused and cleared, you noticed him leaning over to look you over, face uncomfortably close to yours’. His red hair shone with too much oil, his dark shades just barely revealed eyes behind them this up close, and he absolutely reeked.

“Rise and shine!”

He stood back upright, hands on his hips as he studied you. The black trench coat paired with those sunglasses made you feel like you were in a living movie cliché. You shifted a bit, but your arms were firmly against the rest of you, and you ankles were tied as well. You didn’t know if the “rise and shine” comment was literal, but you assumed he was kidding after a small attempt to oblige. You would’ve gladly obliged, and then socked him in the face and called the police.

“Now then, onto business,” your captor said calmly, pulling a map out of his coat. You briefly caught a glimpse of what looked to be a yellow sticky note with red writing on it…

“You appear to be the only owner of an almost unreleased game.”

What a way to begin. You were already running a mental checklist, but all you could think of that were consoles in your house were your Wii and your PS4. He couldn’t mean an old computer game, could he?

He continued, “And sir, I happen to be willing to pay for that game!”

He was pulling out his wallet as you tried to think of what the hell he was talking about. He was counting quietly a moment before he snapped his folding wallet closed and looked at you with a big grin that spoke more than his eyes could’ve.

“Bam-bi on the Wii! What do you want for it? I promise, I pay more than Gamestop ever would!”

“Bam-bi,” you repeated, unsure of what the hell you were hearing.

“Yup! Bam-bi, on the Wii specifically. It has to be on the Wii. I don’t own anything else, unless you’ll sell me that PS4 in the corner.”

Something in you said he’d just take the PS4 if he got mad enough…

“There is no Bambi game on the Wii though?”

Your response got a twitch out of his smile. You could’ve sworn the energy he radiated was like that of a murderous psychopath teetering on the edge… Perhaps you should try to keep him calm.

“Funny! I was told about the game by a friend of mine,” he began, gesturing around with a pistol he’d just pulled from it’s holster. You didn’t question if it was loaded; the answer was rather irrelevant to how safe you felt. “He said it was actually pretty good for a movie tie in game. I asked if he was absolutely sure it was on the Wii, but he was insistent. Said you had the only copy that was at least easy to get a hold of.”

It was in that moment you realized by “Bam-bi,” he meant “Bambi.” In the space between that explanation and his next session of prattles, he hummed a bit. He had kept a somewhat comfortable amount of distance between you and him, but now he stepped over and crouched down to meet your eyes. It was only as he crouched you really took in how inhumanly tall he was… You would buy that he was seven feet tall if that’s what he said. He holstered the pistol in favor of a butterfly knife (one of the few weapons he had that were actually legal to own in his state.) That knife came to be pressed just under where rope ended and gave way to your pajama shirt.

“You know what else is hard to track down but completely worth it? Human organs!”

As he got back up and resumed comfortable distance, the knife was spun through a few tricks before being closed and shoved into one of what you were learning were many inner pockets of his coat. You watched with horror, not needing to have further explanation to connect the dots between the words and phrases. You tried to give a subtle tug at the rope, but he was on it in a second, holding out a hand as he spoke.

“Ah, ah, ah—don’t. You wouldn’t want me to skip good cop and bad cop right for murder cop, would you?”

The condescending tone he wore told you he was very aware of the fact that there was: 1, no such thing as murder cop outside of these circumstances. 2, good cop and bad cop were supposed to be played by a party of two. Lastly, 3, that which cop he was even playing in the moment was entirely up to interpretation.

“I wouldn’t,” you responded as evenly as you could.

“So, I looked through your things,” your captor began in feigned softness with an air of faux concern for your well being. “I noticed a distinct lack of the Bam-bi game! Care to explain? If it’s valuable, I can exchange for something of equal value! How do you feel about overweight and annoying women who’ve been divorced before?”

“I wouldn’t—“

“Oh, that’s fair. That was a poor offer. You don’t want money then?”

“No, sir, I don’t own a Bambi game on the Wii.” It took some memory searching to remember playing a Bambi game at all, but by now you assumed he meant the one on the Gamecube, Bambi: The Fawn’s Journey. “I can tell you, however, that there is a Bambi game on the Gamecube.”

“What? No, I’m 100% certain he said it was on the Wii. Are you lying to me? Liar’s organs sell real good,” he said, already pulling out a shotgun—something you were wishing he couldn’t have. It was concealed, however, so it was legal enough.

“No! No… Maybe he uses his Wii to play Gamecube games. It’s backwards compatible, so he might’ve gotten confused.”

“Well… Nick is a real dumb ass.”

The shotgun was gone after some more visible consideration, and he crossed his arms. He hummed a little longer, giving you time to pray to whatever gods may or may not exist that you get out of this alive. After a moment, he threw his hands up and they landed against his pants with light thuds.

“God, I’m so sorry I put you through this bullshit. You’re a real cute guy, it would’ve been a shame to waste you over a stupid misunderstanding.” The genuine amounts of hurt in his voice were a startling contrast to just moments ago.

“It’s… Fine, sir. Can you untie me?”

“Call me Dude. Sir was my father.”

You couldn’t tell if he was kidding or not, but he didn’t laugh so you didn’t either. He got on his knees by you, getting right to untying you. While you could’ve tried to attack him the moment you were free (and the thought really sounded nice)—you were afraid of the pistol, shotgun, and butterfly knife you had already seen. Who knows what else he managed to shove into his coat? Once you were all undone and freed, he stood up and let you do the same.

“Okay… Dude. Could I ask you to leave?”

“Nah, c’mon, you have to let me make up for the mix-up.”

“No, no, you can just go,” you said with notable panic. Dude wasn’t giving up, however.

“No, really! Maybe even just a courtesy fuck to say I’m sorry for breaking into your home, going through all your things, eating some of your coconut cake, tying you up, and threatening you over a misunderstanding with my idiot friend!”

Was that crack? Was that crack that he was smoking? What porno plot had you landed yourself into? Were you even in a position to consent with what you were just put through? All questions, no answers. Dude sighed when you didn’t respond in the positive. 

“Okay, fair… Let me just leave you my number.”

He pulled a sticky note out with a red sharpie, and you took the time to contemplate if this was flirting while he wrote. He handed it over, and at least there weren’t hearts anywhere?

“If you ever need anyone dead, just call!”

Dude turned to leave, but then stopped.

“Actually, if you ever find that Bam-bi game on the Gamecube, could you call then too? I really want to play it.”

“Sure, Dude,” you responded automatically.

“Thanks!”

With that he was gone. You looked at the clock to find out it was ten in the morning… That was fine. It was time for coffee and to see how much of your coconut cake was left!

… 

“God fucking damn it.”


End file.
